


The Fault is in Ourselves

by EliMiguel



Category: Unfinished work - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 17:30:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13980024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EliMiguel/pseuds/EliMiguel
Summary: Marcus and Esca had planned a life together, but jealousy, deceit, and betrayal put an end to those plans and their lives took an unexpected turn.





	1. INTRODUCTION

**Author's Note:**

> This is the rewrite of an unfinished story I began posting in Feb. 2016. This past summer I deleted it, as well as a couple of other stories, because I was unable to continue writing on them due to my father's death. I am now in the process of finishing this, and the other stories I had deleted, so that I do not leave anything unfinished. If you decide to read it, I hope you will enjoy each and every chapter. Thank you.
> 
> Blessings.  
> Eli

It had been nearly a month since Marcus Flavius Aquila had returned the lost Eagle standard to Rome.

The Eagle had been in the possession of the Seal People, a fierce Northern tribe, since its capture twenty years earlier during the uprising in Caledonia of all the Northern Celts. The golden standard had fallen into the hands of the tribe after the defeat and decimation of the Ninth Legion which had been under the command of Marcus’ father, Quintus Flavius Aquila.

The loss of the Ninth, and its Eagle, was a great blow to Rome, as well as a great humiliation before the world. So great a humiliation, that Emperor Hadrian ordered the building of a great Wall which would forever divide the barbaric North, from the Romanized South. Not only was the Wall to keep the civilized safe from the uncivilized, but it was also meant to serve as a veil for Rome to hide its shame behind.The Wall marked the end of the world for the Romans; a world they no longer had any use for and cared to hear nothing about again.

Until Marcus Flavius Aquila.

For Marcus the North was the very reason he had asked to be sent to Britannia after his promotion to Centurion. For Marcus the North was crucial for it held the answer to his father’s disappearance, and it was also the reason he had had to carry the shame and disgrace of his father’s failure all his life. If the end to that shame and disgrace lay hidden and nestled somewhere within the Caledonian mists, Marcus intended to find it. So, upon hearing that the lost Eagle had been seen and was now an image of worship within some distant temple in the far North, and ignoring the unfathomable dangers that lay waiting, Marcus ventured past the Wall daring to do what no other Roman had done before him: go in search of the Eagle. And Marcus not only returned to tell the tale with the precious lost standard in hand and Rome’s honor restored, but he brought glory to his gens and honor to his family and himself.

The Empire's appreciation, for the young man's heroic deed, had been without precedence, as had the deed itself, for it had been nothing short of Herculean. But Marcus had not been alone while on his quest. Esca MacCunoval, his body slave, had accompanied Marcus on his journey to serve as interpreter and spy for his master. Marcus had been quite vocal in his acknowledgement of the fact that had it not been for Esca, the Eagle would have remained forever lost in the hands of the Seal People, and he would have shared his father’s fate. For Marcus, it had been Esca’s heroism that now allowed Rome the opportunity to celebrate a triumph alike no other before it, for without him Marcus’ venture would have been in vain. But Rome did not care about the role Esca, a Briton, had played in the Eagle’s rescue. All they cared about was the heroism and unequivocal courage Marcus, a Roman, had demonstrated to the world in undertaking such a daunting and daring deed. How he had placed the glory of Rome before his own life; the world would tremble at the thought.

Esca, however, did not seem to care whether he was rightfully acknowledged, or about his former master's sudden celebrity status. The Briton cared for nothing that remotely had anything to do with the Empire that had taken his lands, decimated his tribe, slaughtered his family, and enslaved him for all of seven years; except, of course, for Marcus. Marcus was the only thing Roman in this world Esca cared for - and had come to love, although secretly. During their journey back to Calleva, Marcus and Esca had spoken about their plans for the future: Marcus' plans included a farm, wife, and children; Esca planned to remain at Marcus' side, along with advice on how to make that farm Marcus envisioned lucrative as a horse farm. Preferably in Galicia.

Marcus had been overjoyed to hear his freedman, and now friend, had chosen to stay with him rather than remain up North with the Selgovae -who had invited him to do so- or return to his people’s lands in Isca Brigantium - where Esca no longer felt he belonged. Esca did not share the reasons why, but Marcus could imagine what those reasons were. It was quite simple really. Esca felt he could no longer stay with his own because his tribe had long vanished, or because he felt he had betrayed his blood. It would not have been seen as a noble thing on his part to side by with a Roman in his quest to restore the name and honor of his father, a man who had intended to kill more Celts and take their lands right from under them.

After the Eagle's return to the Legate of the Sixth Legion, Claudius Marcellus, the man who had unwittingly sown the seeds of Marcus' adventure to the Northern wilds, months earlier, Marcus received his monetary reward which far exceeded Uncle Aquila's prediction; and Marcus was thrilled. He wanted to share the bountiful reward with Esca, but the stubborn Celt refused to take more than a small part of what his friend offered him, if only to make Marcus happy. The horse farm in Spain they had spoken about was going to happen and the two men couldn't wait for Marcus was perfectly willing to put the wife and children part of his plans on hold, especially since his feelings for Esca had taken an unexpected, and secret, turn, but not the farm. With that purpose in mind, Marcus spoke to men that had lived in Galicia to get firsthand knowledge of the country.

Now, although Marcus was willing to postpone his marriage and family plans, or preferably omit them altogether, Uncle Aquila saw no valid reason for postponing the inevitable. With that in mind, the older man had set about trying to find the woman who best deserved to become wife to the handsome, young hero. Uncle Aquila felt fortunate that his search need not go any further than his neighbor's home: Kaeso, a Romanized Briton and fellow Magistrate. The two had known each other for years, and Kaeso’s niece, Cottia, was of marriageable age. Uncle Aquila knew Kaeso would like nothing more than to link his household to that of the Aquila, especially through marriage; besides… Cottia was beautiful. However, Uncle Aquila knew his old friend, and former sparring partner, Claudius Marcellus, had a daughter, Claudia Marcella, whose beauty was of great renown. Uncle Aquila knew well that it would not sit well with the Legate if his daughter were purposely shunned in favor of a Briton. That, of course, made matters delicate for Uncle Aquila.

The elder Aquila preferred Cottia, of the Iceni, with the fiery red hair, whom he'd seen grow from a stubborn rambunctious girl, to a stubborn, but warm and loving, young woman, to the Legate's daughter. Especially since all he had ever heard of the Legate’s daughter was of her great beauty: Rome’s Helen she was often called. Aside from that Uncle Aquila knew no one who could tell him if she was a loving daughter, in possession of a noble heart, and the purest of souls. Was she kind to her slaves, patient, and tolerant. Those were things Uncle Aquila needed to know to even begin considering a union between the Legate’s daughter and his beloved nephew. And it was because of that Uncle Aquila was glad to hear Claudius Marcellus was giving a banquet in honor of his daughter’s recent arrival in Calleva, for she would certainly be there, and he would finally have the opportunity of meeting her.

Marcus, on the other hand, did not share in his uncle’s excitement. "I shall not be attending the banquet this evening Uncle." Marcus informed the elder Aquila who looked up from the plate of fresh fruit he had been enjoying that warm spring morning.

"What do you mean, my boy?" Uncle Aquila wiped his mouth to catch the juice from the luscious honeyed pear he'd bitten into. "But you must attend Marcus! If you do not it will be seen as an affront to the Legate."

If there was one meal Uncle Aquila enjoyed, other than dinner, was his breakfast, which he always took outside in the open terrace, weather permitting. That morning, with the sun shining especially bright, and the air filled with the fragrance of many flowers, and the happy songs of birds, Stephanos had served his master’s meal under the pergola.

"You mean an affront to his daughter, Uncle?" Marcus said with a lopsided smile. The former centurion sat directly across his uncle, holding a cup of cool honeyed water to his lips, for he had eaten his morning meal shortly after sunrise.

"Yes of course I mean her, Marcus…the banquet is in her honor."

Marcus shook his head frustrated. "Uncle... I did not ask for you to start a campaign to find me a wife… especially since I am perfectly capable of finding one on my own, if that is what I wish to do."

"But… that is exactly why I _had_ to take matters into my own hands, my boy,” Uncle Aquila chuckled merrily, “because you are in no hurry, Marcus, and you are not getting any younger."

Marcus arched an eyebrow at his uncle's words, feeling heated that the elder man would take it upon himself to write a chapter of his life Marcus was not ready to write on his own. "I am thirty years old uncle and I was just able to remove the stigma that has plagued our family for twenty years. I want to start a life for myself. No! I need to start a life for myself Uncle, especially since furthering my military career is no longer an option.”

“And do you not think a wife can be of invaluable help in rebuilding your life Marcus?”

"I want to build a life in Spain, Uncle… breed horses, and if the gods will it… a lucrative farm, so that the reward we received from the return of the Eagle, will have been put to good use and been well spent. A wife, and a family, will come in time,” _If they come at all,_ Marcus thought to himself, “I am in no hurry Uncle.”

Finally understanding his nephew’s protest in the matter of marriage, Uncle Aquila nodded and patted Marcus’ shoulder warmly. "Forgive an old man's impulsive actions, my boy.... I only wished to help you, but I should not have interfered in this way."

Marcus regretted his being unable to please his uncle and do as he wished him to do; Marcus was not so dimwitted that he failed to see the genuine love and concern behind his uncle’s insistence that he marry and begin his life. Uncle Aquila wanted Marcus to be happy and share that happiness with a family of his own, but Marcus’ happiness lay somewhere that Uncle Aquila could not begin to imagine, nor would he have condoned even if he could: with Esca.

Marcus was not sure when it had happened that love for Esca that had slowly engulfed the Roman's heart, but happened it had. Although, Marcus could not pin point the exact moment, the Roman could safely say that it had occurred sometime between the minute his eyes had locked with Esca’s on that sandy floor of the arena in Calleva, and the time they had begun their journey back from the northern wilds. Yes, it had come upon him almost unawares, that love.

Marcus' heart had suddenly begun to skip a beat every time he heard his friend’s soft voice flowing towards him or saw the Celt's beautiful blue-grey eyes looking his way. Marcus ached with this deep affection that seemed to be slowly consuming him, more so because he was quite unaware that Esca, as well, felt as though he was losing his very soul to Marcus. Now, there was no doubt in the Roman’s mind that his former Briton slave loved him, and that he was devoted and loyal to him; especially after everything they had been through. But the love of a devoted and loyal friend was not what Marcus craved from Esca. But… unfortunately, as far as they both knew, that was the only kind of love each could ever hope for from the other.

Marcus grinned at the older man and shook his head, "No harm has been done Uncle."

Uncle Aquila smiled, "I agree no harm has been done where Kaeso is concerned, my boy, I am hoping Claudius Marcellus does not deem it an affront. I suspect he was very much looking forward to your becoming his son-in-law." The older man chuckled dryly.

"I wonder how excited he would have been about the prospect of having me as a son-in-law if the Eagle was still lost in the wilds of Caledonia, and all I had to show for my valiancy, was this armilla?” Marcus turned the wrist bracelet that celebrated his _‘honor and faithfulness'._ The very one Lutorius Drusillus Salinator had presented him with shortly after his injury; along with the unwelcomed news of his “Honorable discharge.”

Marcus asserted his position on the matter, “The Legate's precious daughter will not wither away, and die an old maid without me, Uncle." Marcus squared his shoulders as his eyes scanned the peaceful and picturesque view of the quiet lake and the luscious green surroundings before him.

"I am aware of that Marcus, but I would rather handle this with cautious tacked." Uncle Aquila arose from his chair and straightened himself to his full height which was quite impressive. The men of the Flavia had inherited their height from their ancestors; no matter how far back you traveled in the family history, rarely was a smaller man to be found. "I will speak to the Legate and tell him this whole thing was my idea… going against your wishes to remain unmarried until you prosper. If the gods are on my side, he will see my sincerity and take no offense."

As the elder Aquila turned to leave the garden for the quiet and comfort of his study, Marcus stopped him with a question, “You seem worried Uncle… I doubt there is any need to be…it is not as though we had signed a marriage contract.”

“No, of course not, my boy,” the elder Aquila laughed. “but what worries me, Marcus, is that Claudius may have already spoken to the girl about you, and if so…,” Uncle Aquila stopped and took hold of Marcus’ arm. “Marcus… it is not as though a marriage to the man who brought back the lost Eagle, would not excite any woman.”

Understanding his uncle’s discomfort over a situation he had created, and not wanting to make matters worse, Marcus decided to attend the banquet. “Have no fear, Uncle. I shall go to the banquet with you and if the matter is brought up… I shall speak on my own behalf. You need not bother yourself. It is not as though I am looking to marry another and am making excuses as to why that other is not the Legate’s daughter. She will understand. I have heard much about Claudia Marcella. Many good things from men who would ask for her hand.”

Uncle Aquila was surprised. “Really? I did not know.”

Marcus nodded. “Yes, at a dinner the other night. A senator’s son who was present had his father ask for her hand, as well as General Gaius Claudius Strabo. They both sought marriage with her only to be turned down.”

“By Claudius?” Uncle Aquila asked unbelieving for he knew his old friend wished nothing more than to see his daughter married to a fine man of noble blood and unblemished character.

“No,” Marcus laughed, “by her. It seems the Legate is more anxious to see his daughter married, than she is to oblige him.”

Uncle Aquila shrugged and sighed, “Very well then Marcus. I leave it in your hands.” Uncle Aquila patted his nephew warmly on the shoulder and walked back into the villa leaving Marcus to his own private thoughts. Suddenly remembering Esca had mentioned his intention to go fishing for that evening’s meal, Marcus directly went in search of his friend.


	2. THE BEGINNING

As Marcus made his way to the lake, he was disappointed to see Esca walking toward him, not because he was not happy to see him, but because he had missed one of his favorite past times: watching Esca fish.

There was nothing the Roman loved more than sitting, perched on a rock, watching the small wiry Celt standing knee deep in the water, bent down at the waist, with hands submerged, waiting for his unsuspecting prey to swim directly into his grasp. Esca never ceased to amaze Marcus with his lightening quick speed, and Marcus always found himself taken aback at how nimble Esca was with his hands. Not to mention his unending patience as he waited, almost uncaring, of the passing time. For Esca, it was always about accomplishing what he set out to do: whether it was fishing, looking after the horses in Uncle Aquila’s stables, or working on self-imposed chores around the villa. If only to feel as though he was earning his keep – even though it was never expected or asked of him.

When it came to fishing, Esca had tried to share the skills with his former master, but they both concluded that either Marcus was just too clumsy, too large, or just too loud for the fish to feel comfortable around. He never managed to catch one single fish on any of his tries. They would not come anywhere near him. On each try, Marcus would return empty handed and Esca would enjoy a side-splitting belly laugh at the Roman’s ineptness. Marcus, of course, did not really mind being a source of fun for his friend, but he had to pretend offense to keep some of his dignity intact. Therefore, one day, the former Centurion announced that he would no longer continue being Esca’s entertainment, and with that… Marcus’ fishing escapades were over. Much to Esca’s chagrin for he truly enjoyed the side-splitting laughs that would come upon him every time he remembered Marcus catching sight of a fish, but scaring it away with a sudden sneeze, cough, or calling out a greeting to a passing neighbor.

“Salve Marcus,” Esca called out to his former master as he caught sight of him drawing near. “The fish were plentiful today, my friend. You missed a good show.” Esca laughed that light hearted laugh that always hit Marcus in the center of his chest.

“Salve, my friend… apologies,” Marcus patted Esca’s shoulder warmly as he took his place beside him for the walk back to the villa. “I would much rather have been here with you, than listening to my Uncle’s incessant plans to find me a wife but walking out and leaving him talking to himself did not seem like the right thing to do.”

Esca laughed and shook his head in agreement, “Poor, poor Marcus. It’s as Sasstica says… you have been put up on the auction block.”

What irked Marcus the most, about the matter, was his uncle’s lack of propriety.

To make matters worse, it seemed most of Calleva was aware of the hunt to find Marcus Flavius Aquila a wife; preferably before his hair began to turn white. Now he understood why his uncle seemed uncomfortable about the Legate’s probable reaction to the news that Marcus was not ready to marry. Now, it was not that the handsome Roman could not understand his sole surviving relative being worried about his only nephew making a life for himself, raising a family, and continuing the family name. A name that, until recently, had been equated with cowardice and dishonor, but suddenly it had come to symbolize honor, unyielding courage, and the very greatness of Rome.

Therefore, it would not be strange for his uncle to want to see it continue; handed down with pride, from father to son, for ages to come. But his uncle was taking matters too far. After all, Marcus was only thirty-years old, as he had reminded his uncle during their conversation. And although Marcus realized he was not considered a very young man, he was also not considered a very old man. Men older than Marcus searched for wives, especially after having returned from their twenty-five years of service to Rome within the ranks of her legions, or after having widowed.

“And may I ask how Sasstica came to know of this?” Marcus asked curious.

Esca flashed Marcus a look of disbelief. Surprised that his former master would ask such a question, since it was well known that gossip was one of the few luxuries afforded to slaves.

“Wait, of course… through Stephanos.” Marcus guessed as he rolled his eyes.

“Actually no, she overheard your uncle and Kaeso talking about his daughter, Cottia.” Marcus chuckled and shook his head as Esca continued. “And Duncan overheard a conversation between your uncle and Quintus, the Magistrate, the afternoon he came over to lunch.”

“Mithras! Even the stable boy knows? Anyone else?”

“No, oh… yes… Marcipor said….”

Marcus waved his arms and roared with laughter at his predicament. “Please, my friend, I do not wish to hear the remainder of the names on that seemingly endless list.”

Esca stopped in front of Marcus and smiled that wide toothy smile that always made Marcus’s heart flutter since the very first time he had seen it. Marcus could remember it as though it had just happened that very morning. The Roman focused on Esca’s face and how very beautiful it was: pale, his hair soft and ash blonde, his face angular with its distinct features and strong jaw line. His eyes blue-gray, his lips soft and with a bow’s curve. Marcus felt as though he could lose himself just staring at his friend, and every time he did, he found himself wondering how anyone could not have recognized the nobility in the small Celt. It should have been obvious that the Brigantes had been born of royal blood for his countenance was regal and demanding of respect. Marcus could not have been the only person to see that Esca was someone who was born to be served, and not to serve.

Uncle Aquila had asked Marcus, that day at the arena, why he had saved Esca’s life. Marcus had not answered him, because he did not know the reason why himself. But after getting to know Esca Marcus could see the man Esca was, not the slave he had had to become. Marcus learned to recognize the uncrushed spirit, as well as the measure of pride and the dignity the Celt had managed to retain. Marcus now knew full well the reason he had saved Esca from the clutches of Death: the Celt was a mirror image of himself.

Esca’s smile had taken Marcus back to the day they had delivered the golden Eagle standard safely back to Rome, and into the hands of the Legate. As they were walking out, Esca had turned to Marcus and asked where they were headed to next? Marcus had left that decision up to him, and Esca had looked at him with those soft blue-grey eyes, and that unadulterated smile that bared all of his deepest and truest feelings. Marcus’s heart had skipped a beat.

“He’s only looking out for you Marcus. He means no harm.”

“I know that, my friend, but I am not in need of a wife…” _I am in need of you_ , Marcus would have given anything to say. The Roman would have liked nothing more than to profess his love to Esca right then and there, since the moment seemed ripe for such a confession, but he bit his tongue and continued, “… and even if I were in need of a wife…I would rather search for one on my own, instead of having my uncle arrange it as though I were a boy barely initiated into manhood.”

Esca moved to stand by Marcus’s side once again as the two of them began the short walk back to the villa, the glimpse of the cream-colored structure assuring them that they were only minutes away. “Marcus… having a wife may benefit you.” And although those words were sincerely spoken from the heart, each word felt as though it tarred Esca’s tongue upon speaking them, for Esca too was deeply in love with the handsome Roman; the man who had not only saved him from death, but also from the indignity of slavery, along with the loneliness and pain that shadowed it.

But Esca wanted his friend to be happy.

Lately, Marcus had begun losing himself in a deep sadness as though he were missing something very important in his life. Esca knew the look well. He had seen that very same longing and momentary despair displayed openly in Marcus’s eyes, shortly after arriving at the villa to serve as the Roman’s body slave. When he had asked Sasstica as to the reason his master was so unhappy, she had told him that it was because his injury had ended his military career, and that meant he could no longer restore the family’s honor which had been stained and lost because of something his father had done, or failed to do when Marcus was still a child.

Of course, later Esca would come to know that the family’s name had been stained, and their honor lost, when Marcus’s father had led five thousand of his men to their death, and the Eagle had been captured. Both through no fault of his. Having restored the standard, and with-it Rome’s honor, and his family’s name, should have been enough to erase the sadness, longing, and despair from Marcus’s eyes, but shortly after their return, all of it was there again.

What Esca did not know was that what he was seeing in Marcus’s eyes was not the same sadness, longing, and despair from before. What Esca saw was the result of the Roman not daring to express his emotions for the Celt openly with his heart in his hands. Marcus guarded those feelings securely and would not let anyone on to them even with the slightest of glances, or smiles. After all, Esca had never given Marcus any hint that he felt the same about him, or that he was interested in a relationship with another man, much less a Roman man, even if that man was his dearest friend. Marcus lived in fear that the slightest insinuation might send Esca flying far from him, even if the Celt had confirmed that he planned to stay at Marcus’s side. Marcus was not ready, willing, or able to take that chance, and he would not do so no matter the cost to him.

“Esca, as I told my uncle, there are many things I need to do before I can even contemplate, or even seriously consider a wife.”

“Yes, but when all of that is done, Marcus. When you have your farm, and you have prospered, there is nothing wrong with finding someone to share the joys of these things with.” Marcus felt his throat tighten with Esca’s words. Why was Esca so adamant about Marcus finding a wife? Had he changed his mind? Was Esca eager to find a wife, and so that Marcus would not feel alone, or abandoned, he wanted him to find one as well? Marcus felt momentarily dizzy from the shock of Esca’s words, and he wanted to clarify their meaning, in case he had misunderstood, but Esca hurried into the kitchen to hand Sasstica the basket of freshly caught, and cleaned, fish.

Marcus followed behind him but turned to go to his room instead when he heard his uncle call out to Esca. Marcus entered his room, opened the double doors that looked out on the lake, and sat on the edge of his bed.

“Marcus!” The Roman was startled by his freedman’s voice, so lost in thought was he, “Your uncle has asked me to go into town to fetch some scrolls sent to him from Rome. Would you like to come along?”

“I was about to lie down. My leg is throbbing, and I am hoping a good rest will help before this evening’s banquet.” Marcus did not wish to go anywhere with Esca worried as he was that somewhere along the way his will power might break, and he would end up humiliating himself.

“Oh, yes… the banquet.” Esca ran his fingers through his soft ash blonde hair. “Apologies Marcus, but I am unable to rub your leg at this moment, but as soon as I return, if you are awake, I will do so. I will go and return as promptly as I can.”

The smaller man turned and left. Marcus wanted to quietly follow him out to the stables and watch him ride away, but instead he forced himself to lie down, crossed his right arm over his face so that his eyes were covered from the light of day, and without knowing exactly when… he fell asleep. In his sleep Marcus dreamed of what it would be like to take Esca to his bed. To love him and make him his. But… even in his dreams, Marcus knew those were wishes that would never come true.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Esca remembered the dim rectangular room the moment he walked in.

It was the very room he, Marcus, and Uncle Aquila had been summoned to the day of his manumission a few days after the return of the Eagle. Esca found himself asking the very same question he had asked himself that very day: why was the room in such dimness when it boasted more than a few large windows meant to afford it a good deal of light? There were also smaller windows high up which let in long shafts of blinding white rays of sunlight, and yet it appeared as though it was enveloped in darkness.

Esca noticed a friendly looking plump gentleman in a white toga sitting at one of the dark cedar tables and he immediately recognized him as the Magistrate whom had pronounced his freedom. Esca had forgotten the man’s name, and it was totally possible that he had never really paid attention to it in the first place. Esca had been far too excited that day to have remembered much more than the important. But he smiled back at the man and accepted his extended forearm in a warm handshake.

“Esca, my boy, how are you? And Marcus? Did he come with you today?”

“Marcus is well, Magistrate, but no, I am here alone to fetch Master Aquila’s scrolls.”

Although Esca was no longer a slave, he was unable to bring himself to call the man who had once bought him, by his first name. Uncle Aquila had warmed up to Esca upon their return from the North for he saw the Celt’s worth, and he admired the honorable qualities the former slave possessed. The elder Aquila also recognized that without those honorable qualities, his nephew would have been dead and lost forever as the Eagle had almost been. One evening, over dinner, the elder Aquila had asked Esca to call him ‘Uncle,’ as Marcus did. Esca had thanked him but continued calling him as he had until that moment: Master Aquila.

“Of course, of course, my boy… here they are.”

There were four medium size scrolls tied together with a leather sash. The Magistrate explained that they were scrolls from one of the divine Emperor Trajan’s libraries in Rome, which contained historical information the Elder Aquila needed to validate certain historical facts in his manuscripts. Esca and the Magistrate exchanged a few more words and then Esca excused himself and left.

As he was walking down the long corridor, Esca passed the very room where he and Marcus had returned the Eagle standard to the Legate. He smiled to himself at the memory of the shocked expression on the Tribune Placidus’s face following Marcus’s slight. Esca could still see him standing there tongue-tied, looking from one person to the next as if asking for someone to intervene on his behalf. Esca also recalled, with a tightening of his chest, the way Marcus had looked down at him with those beautiful green eyes that seemed to want to say a thousand things that he could not bring himself to speak. Esca wondered what those things might have been, and he was so lost in the memory of those eyes, and the fullness of the Roman’s lips, when suddenly he hit into something, or someone, with such force that the scrolls flew out of his arms and landed on the floor.

As the Celt turned to apologize to whomever he had so unceremoniously slammed into, he felt a hard-stinging slap across his face.

“Don’t you use your eyes, you stupid man?” The livid Roman maiden snapped furiously at the man whose pale complexion, light hair, and light eyes had her easily identifying him as a tribesman.

Esca’s brow furrowed in anger as he eyed her defiantly without offering the apology he had intended. The young woman, who was rubbing her shoulder, turned to her servant to ask her if she was hurt. She then offered Esca an indignant glare, “Are you mute, as well as stupid, tribesman?”

Nothing.

The young woman was so incensed, by Esca’s silence, that she was fisting the silk material of her ivory gown, and her cheeks had gone from a soft pink, to a fiery crimson. Such was the building fury within.

“Do you know who I am?” It was obvious that she had reached the pinnacle of her rage when she dropped one fist from the now wrinkled material, and grabbed Esca’s arm hard, making certain her nails left their imprint on the pale skin of his upper arm. “You nearly sent us both to the ground and you dare stand there glaring at me? You… who are no better than…”

“Lady, I do not care if you are the daughter of Lugh himself,” Esca whispered through clenched teeth, as he narrowed his eyes. Eyes that held nothing but hate and contempt for everything the young woman stood for, “But I ask that you remove your hand from my arm before I remove it for you.”

The young woman was so taken aback by the Celt’s ferocious demeanor that she had to force herself to keep her hold on the man’s arm, no matter how threatening he looked. What both of them failed to notice was the crowd of people the commotion had drawn around them. “You insolent….”

The young woman was cut off by a booming voice from somewhere behind her demanding to know what was going on. Esca, who was still glaring at the girl, instantly recognized the voice as that of the friendly Magistrate.

The girl was about to begin her explanation to the Magistrate when the man raised his hand to silence her.

“Release him!” The Magistrate barked. “Immediately!”

The young woman’s long almond eyes widened with disbelief upon hearing a Roman official siding with a savage over a Roman citizen. The Roman maiden finally let go of Esca’s arm, but not without a measure of hesitation and the shooting of a series of death stares at the two men. The Magistrate receiving a particularly long one for having humiliated her in front of something she considered less than the dirt under her sandals.

Esca maintained a serious expression as he accepted the Magistrate’s apologies. The Celt bowed his head ever so slightly to the seething young woman, gathered the scrolls from the floor and walked out into the warm afternoon sun. The Magistrate shook his head and returned to his office while the two women were left standing there with a handful of people still watching them and mumbling under their breath.

When the young woman turned to face her servant, her eyes were brimming with angry tears.

“Wait until my father hears about this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish to thank those of you who have read the first chapter of this story. I hope you have liked it and that you enjoy this one, as well. Please do not hesitate to share your thoughts on it with me. I appreciate your words and am most grateful for any feedback. Thank you again.
> 
> Eli


End file.
